“Something of mine?” Finn asked, eyeing Maurice.
Maurice nodded. “Meet me in the Observation Car in an hour?”
Finn’s mind briefly froze, unable to process the information.
What does he have? What did I leave? Why does he look like that? Why is my heart doing this stupid thing?
“Yeah,” Finn said, trying to sound casual and absolutely failing. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
Maurice held his gaze for a beat longer than necessary, but long enough that it travelled all the way down his spine, gave a small, private smile, and walked away. Finn watched him go, bracelets sliding down his wrist as his hand dropped to his lap.
What the hell was that? What does he have of mine? Why did he say it as if it were a secret?
Jacob raised an eyebrow. “So… you two know each other pretty well, huh?”
Finn tore his eyes away from Maurice’s retreating figure. “It’s… complicated.” But his heart was already counting down the minutes.
Chapter Thirteen
Finn
The train slowed, thefamiliar shift in weight rolling through the floorboards before it eased to a full stop. Finn glanced toward the windows just as the conductor’s voice crackled faintly over the speakers.
“This is Indianapolis,” Jacob said, brushing a crumb from his sleeve. “The next stop is Chicago around six.”
Finn nodded, watching as a crowd gathered on the platform—men sprinkled with rainbow colors, some waving, some already taking selfies with the Pride Train behind them. A handful of them headed straight for the Welcome Car, excitement buzzing off them even from a distance.
Inside the Dining Car, the hushed clinking of cutlery and the gentle murmur of conversation created a sense of calm. The soft clatter of dishes mixed with the low murmur of sleepy conversations. It was the one place on the train where Finn felt like he could actually breathe.
He let his shoulders drop a little, soaking in the quiet. The rest of the train always felt like a party he wasn’t sure he’d been invited to. But here with Jacob across from him—extremely handsome and friendly—he could relax.
Finn tried not to stare at the way Jacob’s sleeves were rolled up, or how he smiled like he genuinely enjoyed being here with him.
“Tonight, there’s a mixer dance. Will you be going?” Jacob asked, stirring his tea with a kind of gentle precision Finn found weirdly charming.
Finn nodded. “I’m going to all the evening events.” He tried to sound casual, as if he wasn’t still figuring out how to be a person who went to mixers.
“I hope you save me a dance.”
Finn’s stomach did a small, traitorous flip. Jacob said it as if Finn was someone people lined up for. “Of course.”
But the thought lingered—popular. Jacob talked as if Finn were popular here. Maybe he was, in that fleeting, Pride-Train way. But how was he supposed to know who actually liked him and who just wanted a little fun before moving on?
A man dropped a flyer about card games later that day. Finn had no desire to play any more cards. He sucked at it, but Jacob picked it up, scanned it then put it down.
Jacob took a sip of tea, eyes glinting with mischief. “Someone told me a story about you. I’m not sure I believe them.”
Finn blinked. “Who told you a story about me?”
“Caleb.”
Of course it was Caleb. Finn lifted his coffee, bracing himself. “What did he say about me?”
Jacob leaned in a little, as if he were about to share a secret. “He said you were dancing naked on a table with gangsters watching. That true, or is Caleb just trying to make you sound dangerous?”
Finn nearly choked. “Not completely.” He set his cup down. “They didn’t have tickets and were kicked off, so I haven’t thought about it.”
Jacob’s brows pulled together—not in a clinical way, more like a guy trying to figure out how the person he liked had gotten into something ridiculous. “Okay, but… were those guys messing with you? You look like someone who shouldn’t have to deal with that kind of crap.”
